


The Poisonous Egg

by ReinbewPastel



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack Sparrow - Rob Kidd
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Scene, Gen, Pirates, Young Jack Sparrow, jack sparrow books, pirates of the caribbean - Freeform, rob kidd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinbewPastel/pseuds/ReinbewPastel
Summary: Alternate end to the short story, The Bedeviled Egg. During Age of Bronze. What if the egg Jack bought from the pirate woman in the alley did a lot more than show him his future? Slight hint of JackXFitzy. Emetophobia warning. Spoilers be warned!Fanfiction by me, Reinbew PastelPirates of the Caribbean Jack Sparrow by Rob Kidd © Disney Press
Relationships: Fitzwilliam P. Dalton III & Jack Sparrow





	The Poisonous Egg

**Author's Note:**

> **(A/N: CW: This story contains A LOT of vomiting and blood. Read this with caution or turn away if you have emetophobia!)**

Jack Sparrow and his crew were tired and hungry. They'd arrived in the city of New Orleans a short time ago, and the first thing that Jack wanted to do was find a place where he could have a good meal. However, his crew decided to find the mysterious mystic Madame Minuet first before grabbing a bite to eat. Hungry and irritated, Jack stormed off into the dark alleys of the Crescent City.

The streets were littered with heaps of trash, and a thick smell of days-old meat hung in the air.

Jack made his way down a narrow path called Pirates' Alley. He was not surprised that the tiny road was true to its name. New Orleans had a reputation for piracy that was surpassed only by the pirate town of Tortuga, where Jack had met Arabella. A half dozen men and one woman were lounging lazily in the alleyway. They all wore telltale signs of the pirate's life. None looked as though he or she had bathed in weeks. Their fingers were adorned with gaudy rings, and some had beads dangling from their hair. Some of the men even wore makeup on their eyes.

Jack walked over to one of the men. The pirate was hugging a barrel of something and dozing off. His pleasant expression contrasted with his otherwise intimidating appearance. Jack decided the pirate must be drunk on whatever it was that was in that barrel.

"Excuse me, mate," Jack said merrily.

The pirate just brushed him off, clearly too much at ease to be bothered with dirty little children.

"Well, sorry, then, didn't intend to disturb your inebriation," Jack said indignantly. "Can't a mate just find something to eat around here?" Jack asked.

The filthy woman at the dark end of the alley jumped up eagerly.

"Fond of eggs much?" she asked.

"Fond of just about anything at this point," Jack said, sizing her up.

"A gold piece," the woman demanded, thrusting her open palm before him.

Jack grimaced, dug into his coat pocket, and dropped a gold coin into her hand.

She smiled, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth. She reached into her own jacket and pulled out a perfectly round egg.

"What kind of chicken laid _that_?" Jack said, sneering in disapproval.

"If you're not hungry, I'll happily take it back," the woman replied.

"No, no, no," Jack said, taking the egg from her. Its shell was soft, and the liquid inside made it feel especially squishy. Jack hesitated for a moment and then popped it into his mouth.

He squinted as he chewed. A thick, slimy substance squirted from the egg.

"Mmm, not too bad," Jack said. "Then again, nothing is really that bad when you're as hungry as..."

Jack stopped in midsentence. Suddenly, the world began to transform itself. The alley seemed to fade into obscurity. Swirling lights appeared around Jack. Before him, under a beaded veil, appeared one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She stepped forward, and Jack was so taken by her that he couldn't utter a word. She reached a hand toward him, and a long green snake began to slither down her arm. This woman was clearly Madame Minuit! Jack needed to get back to his crew to tell them he'd found her.

But he couldn't move. Madame Minuit's snake came face to face with him and hissed violently. The snake reared back, ready to strike. It spat wildly, and then, just before it sank its teeth into his cheek, Jack shuddered and looked around. The beautiful woman was gone. Standing in her place was the hideous pirate who had given him the egg. Everything was back to normal, except he felt incredibly dizzy and lights still danced around in his vision.

"What in t'e Seven Seas was that thin' you gave me?" Jack asked her as he stumbled back.

"An egg."

"I'm no dolt, and tha'twas no egg!" Jack slurred.

"Oh, it was," the pirate woman replied. "It was the best type of egg—one that nourishes you with a glimpse into your future." She laughed evilly.

"Heya, could'ya take me back to t'e pretty-lady part? I'd like her to be in my future..." Jack said, trailing off with a chuckle.

The woman spat at Jack and called to the other pirates to follow her out of the alley. As the seconds passed, Jack remembered less and less of the vision that had come to him. He couldn't _try_ to remember as he still felt funny. He needed to get back to his crew.

Jack staggered out of the dark alley back onto the streets of New Orleans, plowing through the townspeople as he searched for his crew. Finding them on the crowded streets was a lot easier said than done seemingly under the influence of something. Faces were difficult to make out under the lights, swirling and spotting around him. He blacked out a little. As soon as he gathered his bearings, he blacked out again. This happened over and over again until he crashed into someone.

"Jack!" The person he crashed into was his first mate, Arabella Smith.

"Hey! It's me lovely first mate!" Jack exclaimed. "What brings ya 'ere?" He smiled at her with the stupidest grin.

"Jack, we're searching for Madame Minuet," the aristocratic-turned-crewmate, Fitzwilliam P. Dalton III reminded. "Are you _drunk?"_

"No! Not at all, Fitzy!" Jack cried happily. "I got somethin' to eat and I saw a pretty lady! Today's a good day!"

Everyone in the crew looked at each other.

Arabella grabbed Jack's face and turned it towards her, looking directly into his eyes. His pupils were so dilated, the brown in his irises were nearly gone.

"I don't think he's drunk..." Arabella said. "I think he's... _drugged_." Jack laughed in response, withdrawing Arabella's hand away from his face.

"What did you eat and where did you get it from?" asked Jean Magliore, another member of the crew. He was petting his cat, Constance — who he claimed was his _human_ sister, enchanted by a mystic's curse.

"I bought a thin' fro'a pirate lass down t'e alley there," Jack said, stumbling over his words. "I'm thinkin' i'twas an egg..."

Jean and his Mayan crewmate and friend, Tumen, gasped.

"Jack! You're not supposed to buy anything from the street vendors here, _especially_ an edible," Jean said, shaking his head. "That egg probably went bad ages ago."

Jack's eyes darted around at the lights around them, clearly not paying attention to his crew.

"He's under a spell," Tumen said, pale in the face.

"I'm sorry but I think we're going to have to pause this mission until Jack sobers up," Arabella said, concerned.

"I _am_ sober. What're ya talking about, lassie?" Jack said.

"Maybe we should get something to eat and take a rest," Jean suggested. "I haven't had the food here in so long."

"All right," Arabella agreed, looking at the rest of the crew as they nodded. "Fitzwilliam, ye take one arm and I'll take the other."

Fitzwilliam and Arabella grabbed Jack arm and arm as the crew looked for somewhere to eat.

"Hey, weren't we goin' to find Madame?" Jack asked.

"No, we're going to get lunch," Fitzwilliam responded seriously.

The crew of the _Barnacle_ brought bowls of alligator stew to a low stone wall where they could perch and eat in relative comfort.

The locals eating and talking around them, and the hum of French, Cajun, English, and Spanish were dulled down as Jack kept hearing noises and seeing things as he attempted to eat. However he was too dizzy to continue and watched his crew as they ate their lunch. Jack glanced over to Fitzwilliam and smiled.

"Fitzy," Jack said, catching the aristocrat's attention. "You're t'e most annoyin' person I've ever sailed wit' and I hope ya know that."

"Likewise," Fitzwilliam replied, furrowing his brows as he continued to eat.

"But ya know what? I like you! You're a good mate," Jack said. He wrapped an arm around him, shoving a pointed finger onto the other boy's chest. "The way ya do all your things—this an' that, t-that's good. Good job, mate!"

Fitzwilliam scowled, pulling Jack's arm off of him. "Arabella, Jack is bugging me," Fitzwilliam tattled like a child.

"Jack, stop bugging Fitz," Arabella said flatly, concentrating on her stew.

Jack looked down at his food. He took the little bread roll that came on the side and stared at it. "Hmm."

Jack walked away from the wall and took a few steps back.

"Food fight!"

Before Fitzwilliam could react, a lump of bread slammed his head. He turned and found Jack a few feet away laughing. He frowned and his face blistered red in anger, storming over to the captain. He forcefully grabbed him by the arm and ear and dragged him back to the wall.

"Shut up and sit your arse down!" Fitzwilliam hissed through gritted teeth, shoving Jack down onto his rear against the stone wall.

"Oh! T'e prat fin'ly swore!" Jack said giddily.

"If I were your parent, I would disown you right now," Fitzwilliam seethed.

"Pay him no mind and keep eating," Tumen said.

Jean was slurping through his third bowl of stew. Constance also had her own bowl. The broth dripped off her jagged whiskers and the fur on her face as she drank the stew.

Jack leaned back against the stone wall and stared ahead at the lights and colors, and all the people around contrasting against them.

And then, something piqued Jack's attention.

_"Do you have it? Did you get it from the ship?"_

_"Yes. And it is in place now."_

Jack couldn't tell if it was real or a hallucination, only confirming its reality by turning his head slightly to look at the conspirators. This sounded good.

The first one who spoke was an old man dressed in long, tattered robes. And snakes. Dead ones—lots of them—hung around his neck. He wore a top hat and held a long staff topped with a skull. His companion was a boy about Jack's age, who held something shiny in his hand.

"You did not draw any attention to yourself? Left nothing behind?" the old man asked.

"Only a bronze ship."

Everyone from the _Barnacle_ heard that part. Tumen looked over anxiously.

The old mystic cackled, then clapped the boy on the shoulder. The boy's hand shot out and revealed that he was clutching an amulet.

Tumen's face went white. Then he darkened in anger. He pointed at the amulet wordless, shaking with rage.

Jack's blurry vision and dizziness made it hard for him to see it. The amulet has a sun design in the center, and what looked like three empty settings around the edges... The treasure the Xitami had entrusted to Tumen's people! It was right here!

"Heh, well tha'twas easy!" Jack said, pulling himself back up onto his feet, stumbling a bit to gain balance. "Let's go get that am'let, mates!"

"No!" Arabella grabbed Jack by the arm. "You are in no shape to confront them!"

"You don't tell me what to'do! I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow!" Jack spat, pulling himself away.

Jack drew his sword and lunged over at them. The two were off guard and had no time to draw any weapons. Without thinking, he hit with the flat of the sword.

_Clang!_

The boy turned his hand out, blocking the sword with the amulet. There was a strange noise, like a hiss, and the stink of something burning. Jack watched as a reddish gold color swallowed his sword from where it touched the amulet on up. In less than a second his sword had been turned into bronze.

It was much heavier than before, and the unexpected weight pulled Jack's hand down. The weakness of whatever he was on forced him to drop it.

"Well, we'll finish this t'e ol'-fashion' way," he said cheerfully, putting up his fists.

Fitzwilliam joined him at his side, and Jean rolled up his sleeves, ready for a good rumble. A still-angry Tumen pulled out his obsidion knife.

Jack tried to grab the amulet. The boy pulled it back at the last minute, slamming his other fist into Jack's side. Jack doubled over in pain as Jean dove at the boy's legs, trying to tackle him to the ground. The boy shot his hands out wildly, trying to keep his balance. Jack recovered himself and lunged forward again—and was rewarded by being slammed in the face by the amulet.

_Clonk._

His jaw shook with a head-shattering pain. It felt like a tooth had been knocked clear out of his mouth. Yep—there was that burning, metallic taste of blood. Not the first time he had lost a tooth, but this felt like a whole row of them from one side of his mouth!

Suddenly, the lights and colors intensified and his ears rang loudly. Jack stood still, staring ahead seemingly at nothing.

Jean, Tumen, and Fitzwilliam had taken over where Jack left off. They had managed to wrestle the boy to the ground. Arabella crept up behind the mystic, raising her soup bowl over his head. But just as she was about to bring it down on his skull, he suddenly raised his hands in the air and shouted something in a language none of the friends knew.

All the dead snakes around his neck came alive.

Arabella jumped back as they began writhing and hissing, snapping at everyone who came near them. Taking advantage of Fitzwilliam's and Jean's surprise, the boy slithered out of their grasp and leaped up. The old man grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him close.

Two of the snakes began gasping, It looked as if they were regurgitating prey: two round objects worked their way up their necks. The old man put his hands out and the twin snakes each vomited a pearly white egg into his hands.

With another cry, the man raised the eggs above his head—and then smashed them to the ground.

They exploded with a cloud of smoke and the stench of rotten eggs. The crew of the _Barnacle_ fell back, eyes stinging from the sulfurous cloud. When they were able to see again, the boy and the old man were gone.

"There goes the amulet," Tumen said sadly. " _Again_."

Arabella turned to Jack, who was the only one unaffected by the explosion.

The lights. The colors. The ringing. The dizziness and disorientation. It all intensified by the second.

"Jack, are ye okay?" Arabella asked.

Jack stood and stared, his eyes wide open and refusing to shut. His heart rapidly paced and he hyperventilated. Sweat dripped down his face. Drool flowed from his mouth. He began to lose feeling in his extremities, starting with his fingers and toes working its way up. He was lightheaded and he felt something slowly come up his throat.

Jack's legs then buckled as he collapsed onto his hands and knees. He gagged for a bit and his skin turned into a greenish hue. Then he began to projectile vomit... _everywhere_. He vomited so hard, it even spewed out of his nose.

The crew could not hide the horror on their faces as they watched their faithful captain vomit over, and over, and over again.

Tumen's face went green just from the sight as his hand flew over his mouth. He ran away, his stomach threatening to do the same.

Jean could barely form words from his mouth. "That egg didn't just go bad—it was _vénéneux_! It was poisonous!"

Arabella suddenly unfroze. "Fitz, Jean and I are going to find a doctor. You keep an eye on Jack," Arabella ordered, her voice slightly panicked.

"But—" Fitzwilliam began to protest, but Arabella already ran off. Jean grabbed Constance and followed.

Fitzwilliam was now alone with his violently puking friend. People from the street began to crowd around them, spectating the nightmare. Fitzwilliam watched Jack continuously regurgitate thick yellow and green chunks of contents from his stomach at a fast rate. The bile splattered everywhere before him. He wanted to help, but he didn't want to risk getting vomited on all over.

"It burns," Jack spluttered, gasping for air between vomiting.

The inside of his stomach and his throat burned as he continued to vomit. Soon, the yellow and green slowly began to turn red. The red turned darker and darker until he was vomiting pure blood. He screamed between puking he was in so much pain. Jack lifted a trembling hand over to his stomach, then he collapsed on his side into the puke-blood puddle, continuing to vomit.

Fitzwilliam walked around him. Terror filled the aristocrat when he saw the look on the sick boy's face. His face was deathly pale. With still dilated pupils, the whites of his eyes were yellow and blood flowed out of them like tears. He was also bleeding from his ears and nose.

"Fitzy," Jack vomited, "Am I," he vomited again, "gonna die?" and again.

"Um, uh—No," Fitzwilliam stammered. "You're going to be fine." He found it difficult to keep himself together.

Arabella and Jean couldn't be back quick enough. He had to think fast. Fitzwilliam ran to the other side of Jack and pulled him up into a sitting position. The entire front and side of Jack's nice but worn clothing were soaked in a mix yellow, green and red. Fitzwilliam then grabbed Jack from under his arms and began to pull him backwards. The crowd parted as Fitzwilliam hauled the continuously vomiting Jack onto the streets, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

"Jack!" Tumen appeared out of nowhere.

"Oh, thank goodness one of you finally showed up!" Fitzwilliam sighed.

"The rest of them haven't come back yet?" Tumen asked.

"No, they haven't," Fitzwilliam replied monotone, nodding his head down to the vomiting Jack. "Could you help me out here?"

Fitzwilliam let go of one side of Jack for Tumen to take, and the two boys began dragging Jack down the street together.

There was no end to the vomiting. Blood soaked the cobblestone road Jack was dragged down, and spectators dodged to avoid getting puked on. Suddenly the red began to turn darker until all that Jack threw up was black ooze. Fitzwilliam and Tumen didn't notice.

Fitzwilliam and Tumen stopped for a quick rest, putting a little more slack on holding Jack up. Just then, more help finally arrived.

"Tumen! Fitzwilliam! What are ye doing?" Arabella cried out as she and Jean ran up to them.

"We couldn't wait!" Fitzwilliam said.

"Just look at him," Tumen motioned down to Jack, now noticing the black ooze.

"We found someone who could help," Jean said.

A gentleman in a top hat with various fabrics of clothes draped over him and a necklace strung with bones—obviously more than a regular doctor—parted between the two and knelt down, examining the still puking captain. All the sudden, Jack finally stopped vomiting, but then began to violently choke. The crew gasped, fearing he was choking on his own vomit—or whatever that was coming out of him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as bits of foam came out of his mouth.

"Ah, I know what this is," the doctor said.

The doctor motioned for Fitzwilliam and Tumen to move and grabbed ahold of Jack. He then pulled the boy to his feet as he choked. He wrapped his arms around Jack's gut and began pushing up below his ribs. He continued the squeeze as Jack coughed, gagged, and gasped.

The crew of the _Barnacle_ watched in fear and hope. Tears filled Arabella's eyes. Jean and Tumen gave each other worried looks. Fitzwilliam was stone-faced.

Jack's neck began to swell as something came up his throat. The crew backed up in case anything were to project out of him. Something slowly worked its way up to his mouth. His jaw was forced open and the thing came out. That thing appeared to be a _snake_ writhing from his mouth, completely covered in blood and black ooze as it spat and hissed. Under all the red and black, it looked a lot like one of the snakes from that old man they encountered earlier.

Everyone's eyes shot open in shock.

"Oh my stars!" Arabella shouted.

" _Mon dieu_ ," Jean muttered.

Constance hissed back at the snake.

The snake wriggled out until it dropped onto the ground. The crew screamed as the serpent quickly slithered through them, and down a nearby ally frightening other citizens along the way.

Jack gasped a large gulp of air, and then slumped his head down as he went unconscious with blood and ooze leaking from his mouth.

The image of the whole scene was permanently ingrained into his horrified crew's minds forever.

Jack's eyes slowly opened as he awoke to a gut-shredding, head-pounding pain. He could hear the hum of voices around him as his eyes adjusted to make out the source.

His crew's faces lit up as they realized he was awake.

Surprisingly, Fitzwilliam was the first to speak up. "Oh Jack! You're awake," he said, relieved. His expression and tone of voice was a bit uncharacteristic for the snotty aristocrat.

"Welcome back, _mon ami_!" Jean grinned.

Jack sat up a little and flashed his usual smirk. He opened his mouth to make a witty remark, however instead, a croak came out accompanied by a severe burning sensation in his throat. He winced a little at the pain. His face drooped sadly as he rubbed his neck.

"It was recommended that ye lay off using your voice for a while until your throat heals," Arabella said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a slate and a little soapstone pencil wrapped in a rag to erase with. She walked over to his bedside and gave it to him.

Jack glanced over to Fitzwilliam, expecting him to comment, "Well at least his mouth is finally shut for once," or something like that. He didn't.

"Jack, what do ye remember from yesterday?" asked Arabella.

Jack thought as he gazed around, trying to attune to his location. He realized the bed he was in was amongst dozens of others aligned in a large room, most of them filled with other sick or injured patients. He was in a hospital.

He then began to scribble out something on his board and shared it to the crew when he was done.

_"I don't remember anything beyond the fact I was on drugs."_

"Jack, ye were not on drugs!" Arabella said, stifling a laugh. "You were _poisoned_."

Jack erased and scribbled on his board again. _"I was put under a spell, and drugged, and poisoned. What's new?"_ He shared it with a smile as if he was telling a funny story.

"That's not a good thing," Fitzwilliam said, shaking his head.

"You were throwing up a lot," Tumen said.

"And you thew up _un serpent_ ," Jean added. "A snake."

Jack's eyes bulged out of his head in disbelief. _What? You're not fooling?_

"Yes, but thanks to you we found Madame Minuet—well for a few minutes," Jean said. "Actually you probably found her _twice_."

Tumen nodded in agreement.

Jack's jaw dropped.

"Constance also found a new clue," Jean added.

Constance hopped up onto the bed and presented a tarnished bronze key, dangling from a pink silk ribbon tied around her neck.

"We found Madame in one of her two manifestations," Jean said. "One is the haglike man that we saw with the boy who had the amulet. The other I have never seen. When you returned to us under the influence, you were going on about how you bought an egg from a pirate down the alley, and you saw a pretty lady."

Jack thought, trying to remember. His memory of that time was so clouded and foggy, he couldn't remember any of what he specifically saw or did.

"Did the egg look strange at all to you?" Jean asked.

Jack shrugged, not being able to remember.

Jean continued the story. "Later on when we were eating lunch, you saw the man and the boy talking about the amulet, and the bronze ship."

Jack's eyes lit up for a moment, finally barely remembering the old hag and the amulet hanging down from the boy's hand.

"You went to swipe the amulet from the boy and he hit your blade, turning your whole sword bronze," Jean pointed to Jack's baldric nearby with the shiny bronze sword hanging off of it in its sheath. His baldric, belt, and his boots were the only things that were able to be cleaned after the incident. The rest of his clothes were tainted and one of his crew members had ran back to the _Barnacle_ to get him a new set.

"You also might want to take a look at this," Fitzwilliam said, taking a pocket mirror out of his jacket and handing it to Jack.

Jack looked into the mirror and the first thing he noticed was his eye. A blood vessel burst in his right eye from vomiting so hard, resulting in half of his eye being red and bloodshot. His face was also still a bit pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. Jack grimaced at his reflection.

"No, look in your _mouth_ ," Arabella said, adjusting the mirror in his hand.

Jack opened his mouth and looked at his reflection. He gasped. A row of metal teeth shined out among his other sort-of-white ones. He ran his tongue over the metal teeth. He knew he had tasted metal, but he thought it was just blood leftover from his ordeal. The boy—or the amulet—had turned it into bronze!

"You took a few hits when we attempted to tackle the boy down," Jean explained. "And then the old man made his snakes come alive—yes I said _snakes_ —and they vomited _eggs_ that he used to make them explode and he and the boy went poof. I knew that was Madame Minuet because the serpents gave her away. They are her sign. Her trademark," Jean made his hand writhe like snakes. "The snake that came out of you looked a lot like hers. That's why I'm making the connection between the egg you ate and the old hag. You probably ran into a servant of hers and ate an egg from one of her snakes."

Jack smiled and silently mouthed "Ah," getting Jean's point. He thought again and began writing on his slate.

_"Did any of you lot happen to get a close look at the amulet? Or notice anything funny about it?"_

The four other crew members were silent. Jack sighed impatiently.

_"Tumen said the amulet had a sun surrounded by the empty settings of gems."_

_"Don't be shocked when I tell you this and go running off in a frightened tizzy,"_

_"_ _ one of the settings was filled."_

Arabella, Jean, and Tumen stared at Jack.

"So?" Jean asked.

Jack shook his head and scribbled on his board again. " _There was a piece of_ _bronze_ _in one._ " He held up his thumb and forefinger to indicate its size. He then casually tapped his tooth—one of the ones that was shiny and bronze now, and he pointed to his sword. He then went back to the board and drew a picture of a ship, which he shared to the crew.

Arabella got it first.

"Oh!" she said.

Jack rolled his eyes.

"The ship! With all those people...and your tooth..." Arabella continued.

"And your sword," Fitzwilliam added.

"The amulet must be powered by the gem," Tumen said, nodding. "A bronze gem is in it, so it turns everything into bronze."

Everyone went quiet as they reflected on everything that had happened with Madame Minuet.

"Well, I don't want to move away from the topic about the amulet," Arabella said. "But Jack, ye got sick afterwards. _Real_ sick."

"Yes, I was there for the whole thing while everyone went to get help," Fitzwilliam said worriedly, "and also get sick." he added as he glanced over to Tumen, who gave him a weak smile.

"Whatever was in that egg, your body was rejecting it," Arabella told him.

"You were vomiting bile, and blood...and black ooze," Fitzwilliam said, wincing at the memory.

"The contents in the egg burned your stomach from the inside out," Arabella said, "and your throat. So they stitched your stomach back together."

Jack pulled his shirt up and looked down at the bandages wrapped around his waist, concealing the stitches on his stomach. He groaned, but it even hurt to do that.

"That's what caused the blood," Tumen said, stating the obvious.

"I'm pretty sure the snake probably had to do with it, too," Jean said.

Jack wondered how in the world the snake came from inside him via the egg, but it was a question he could get an answer for another day. He then wrote on his board again and held it up.

_"Can I speak to Fitzy alone?"_

The crew exchanged looks. Constance flattened her ears.

"Um, sure," Arabella replied.

Arabella moved from Jack's bedside and gathered the crew, except Fitzwilliam, and walked out of the hall.

Jack motioned for Fitzwilliam to come to him as he began to remove his blanket to sit on the side of the bed.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Fitzwilliam cried, pushing Jack's blanket back on top of him.

Jack tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. _What?_

"You're not wearing pants," Fitzwilliam said.

Jack lifted his blanket a little and looked underneath. His mouth made an "o" shape and he immediately covered himself up. Instead, he pulled himself further up and crossed his legs, keeping his lower half covered by the blanket. Jack tapped the side of the bed for Fitzwilliam to sit beside him.

Hesitantly, Fitzwilliam stiffly sat on the bed with Jack. "What is it, Jack?"

Jack wrote on his board.

_"Why are you being so nice to me?"_

Fitzwilliam looked at the board. "What do you mean?"

_"You were there the whole time when I came down with whatever that was, and you're just not acting like yourself."_

"Huh?" Fitzwilliam raised an eyebrow.

_"As I said, you're being so nice... You're not making any smarmy remarks or anything."_

"I was worried about you, Jack," Fitzwilliam said softly.

Shocked at first, a smirk then crept up on Jack's face. That usually did not mean anything too good. He wrote on his board.

_"You care about me, don't you?"_

Fitzwilliam was in denial. "No! Of course I don't," he quickly turned his head away. "Why would I care about a filthy pirate such as yourself?"

Still smirking, Jack wrote on the slate again.

_"Don't lie to me, Fitzy. You care about me."_

Jack held the board to Fitzwilliam, but with the aristocrat turned away, he did not notice. Jack tapped the board on his arm over and over until Fitzwilliam took it, still looking away. Fitzwilliam sat still for a minute while staring down at the board.

Jack wanted to say something, but he couldn't speak and Fitzwilliam had the board. He then tapped him on the shoulder. Fitzwilliam whipped back around.

"All right! I _do_ care about you!" Fitzwilliam admitted. To Jack's surprise, Fitzwilliam had tears coming down his face.

Jack's eyes widened and his jaw went agape, taken aback by all that Fitzwilliam had admitted. Jack cocked his head a little. Fitzwilliam tossed the slate board back onto the bed, and then leaned over and threw his arms around Jack's neck, tears still streaming. Jack had a blank look on his face as did not know what to say. Without thinking, Jack wrapped his arms around him.


End file.
